The City and the World and Other Stories eBook

THE OCCASION

Mr. O’Brien of No. 32 Chestnut street had his
entire family with him, as he hurried to the eight
o’clock Mass. Mrs. O’Brien was already
tired, though she had gone only a block from the house;
for Elenora, who always was tardy, had to be dressed
in a hurry. Then Tom had come down stairs with
an elegant part to that portion of his hair which was
right above his forehead, but the back section, which
the mirror did not show, was tousled and unkempt.
It took an effort on Mrs. O’Brien’s part
to make the children presentable; and hurry plus effort
was not good for—­well, for folks who do
not weigh as little as they did when they were younger.

Dr. Reilly met the O’Briens at the corner.

“Hello,” he called, “it’s
the whole family, bedad. What brings ye all to
the ’eight o’clock’?”

Mr. O’Brien answered his family doctor only
when the children were left behind where they could
not hear: “It’s Father Collins’
turn to preach at the High Mass, Doc,” he explained.

“Sure, it is,” said the Doctor. “Faith,
I forgot that. I was going to High Mass meself,
but I ran over to see ye. Yes, it’s his
turn. Sure, the poor man puts me to sleep, and
sleepin’ in the House of God is neither respectful
nor decorous. But what is a man to do?”

“He is the finest priest in the city,”
said Mr. O’Brien, looking back to see if his
regiment was following, “and the worst preacher.
I can’t sit still and listen to him. He
loses his voice the minute he gets before the people,
and some day I think he’ll pull the pulpit down,
trying to get his words out. Faith, Doc, he makes
me want to get up and say it for him.”

“Well, O ’Brien, I believe you could say
it, judging from the way you lecture us at the council
meetings. And that brings me to the business
I had when I ran off to see you. Couldn’t
you let the Missis take care of the children at this
Mass? McGarvey wants to talk over something with
us. He’s sick and can’t get out.
We’d both go to the ’nine o’clock’
and that will miss the sermon, too.”

Mr. O’Brien nodded his head complacently.
They had reached the front of the church, and whom
should they meet but Father Collins hurrying out from
the vestry on his way to the rectory across the street.

“Good morning, Father,” cried the children
in chorus, just as they did when one of the priests
visited their room in the parochial school. The
two men touched their hats in greeting. Father
Collins returned the salute. He crossed the street
quickly and ran up stairs to his own room in the rectory,
but did not notice that O’Brien and the doctor
went past the church.

Be it known that Father Collins was the third assistant.
He had been ordained one year. The first assistant,
who was still fasting, with the obligation of singing
High Mass upon him, was installed in Father Collins’
favorite chair, when the owner of it entered.